


Never One to Refuse a Challenge

by leinthalexandra, starshade



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Light Angst, Miscommunication, PWP, Powerplay, Rule 63, Sibling Incest, Teasing, mentions of consent issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leinthalexandra/pseuds/leinthalexandra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/starshade/pseuds/starshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli is always trying not to look. Kíli, on the other hand, is tired of all her efforts of getting Fíli to look being ignored. And when Kíli wants something, she doesn't back down easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never One to Refuse a Challenge

**Author's Note:**

> Because c'mon. This fandom needs more femslash.
> 
> As well, this is what we imagine [girl!Fíli](http://media.tumblr.com/e087633ef5f3eeb5695c1f0418fc7a6b/tumblr_inline_mjys1mbeyk1qz4rgp.jpg) and [girl!Kíli](http://media.tumblr.com/ebbded507279183221d99fcaeb78d194/tumblr_inline_mjys1yQnoV1qz4rgp.jpg) to look like.

Fíli brings her sword down hard in a slashing motion against the practice target, following almost immediately with the blade in her other hand. She does the move again and again, trying to increase the speed and accuracy, always making sure to stay aware of her footwork at the same time. She feels sweat dripping into her eyes but she ignores it; a warrior has to fight even when distracted, or inhibited in some way.  
  
After she’s finally finished her fifty repetitions, she swings the swords around in a circle before sheathing them in the scabbards at her belt. Her sister is still at her own target practice, firing arrow after arrow across the practice range. Her form seems to be improving but it could use some work. “Kíli,” she calls, “straighten out your elbow.” Kíli scowls at her but does as she says anyway, and this time her arrow hits the middle of the target.  
  
Fíli laughs a little at her sister’s stubbornness, but it fades off immediately when she spies the small audience they seem to have attracted. Half a dozen or more boys their own age—though they were all fully-grown, they were still adolescents the same as Fíli and her sister, and they acted more like children than adults, in her estimation—were standing by the far side of the practice grounds, not bothering with even the pretense of coming in for training.  
  
She rolls her eyes and does her best to ignore them, not even wanting to give them the satisfaction of riling her up. They’re all of them a good deal of blockheads and fools, and Fíli has no time for any of them.  
  
Kíli noticed the boys when they first started to appear, less intensely focused on her task than her sister. She pays them no mind; so long as they don’t start whooping, they don’t bother her, at least not overly so. The boys in the area have long since learned not to make disparaging remarks about hers, or Fíli’s prowess as warriors. Or at the very least, brawlers. They had both seen to that long ago.  
  
It’s certainly not the blockheads by the fence that hold Kíli’s attention.   
  
When Fíli approaches, likely with the intention of correcting her form again, Kíli draws back her shoulders, pulling the material of her shirt tight against her chest. She wears more form-fitting clothes than she might otherwise when practicing, as loose garments could hinder her, but she had perhaps specifically found something tighter than normal today. It was an experiment, really, to see if she could get Fíli to look.  
  
She has no trouble getting anyone  _else_  to do so…  
  
Fíli walks over to her sister, putting her hands on Kíli’s shoulders and pressing down to get her to relax them. “Focus. Breathe. Keep your limbs  _relaxed,_  or you’ll throw off your aim.” It’s advice she knows that Kíli has heard a thousand times but she clearly needs to hear it again.  
  
She takes a few steps back to check Kíli’s form, noticing that her sister is wearing a much tighter tunic than she rather needs to be—and it's certainly better to wear in the practice ring, but…  
  
With a scowl in the direction of the boys in the corner—who are  _looking_  at Kíli, and Fíli does not like it—she turns her attention back to Kíli, who is suddenly looking directly at her. Without taking her eyes off of Fíli, Kíli lets loose an arrow and it hits directly in the center of the target. Fíli exhales sharply, not having realized she was even holding her breath.  
  
Kíli gives her sister a smug grin. She’s not sure which feeling is better; having managed to perform a shot even Fíli wouldn’t be able to deny was impressive, or simply having proven that she  _does_  know what she’s doing.   
  
Still grinning, she goes to collect her arrows to start again, and she deliberately puts more of a sway to her walk than is necessary, and the trousers she wears are as form-fitting as her tunic.  
  
She knows she has the attention of the boys, can feel their eyes follow her as she moves from target to target. She continues to steadfastly ignore them.  
  
“I do know what I’m doing, Fíli,” she says, when she returns to her sister. She stands closer to her than she ought, when she readies her bow again, and she does breathe— deep enough to draw anyone’s eyes downward, if they were inclined in such a manner.  
  
Fíli nods, her gaze straying only slightly before she manages to return it upwards. “I know. I’m just…trying to help.” _What is Kíli playing at?_ she thinks, angrier than she realizes. If she’s trying to catch the eye of one of the boys…Fíli clenches her hand into a fist but has to calm herself at once. Forget what Kíli’s strange behavior is all about, Fíli needs to keep her wits about her. It won’t do if anyone noticed…  
  
She takes a deep breath, feeling more herself when she exhales. “Why don’t you come spar with me, since you clearly have your archery skills honed to a fine point?” And if she’s a little bitter in her tone, well. “But I mean, if you don’t want to…or you think you’ll  _lose_ …” Fíli doesn’t quite manage to hide her tiny grin of triumph at the gleam in Kíli’s eyes. Her sister never could turn down a challenge.  
  
“The one losing, dear sister, will be you,” says Kíli. “And  _you_  will owe me a drink.” She’ll not say no to a challenge, but more to the point, she’ll not turn down such a perfect opportunity to tease Fíli.  
  
They move away from the archery targets, and when they approach the racks of practice weapons, Kíli makes a show of stretching very thoroughly, eyes never leaving her sister. “Our weapon of choice, or did you have something specific in mind for me to knock you into the dirt with?”  
  
Fíli stretched her arms behind her back then cracks her neck, tucking a few stray strands back into the long braid of her hair that she wore in combat. “Short knives,” she says with a grin. “You do just fine with a ranged weapon and a long blade, sister mine, but how do you fare with a short one barely the length of your palm?”  
  
She pulls her knife out from the back of her belt and flips it around casually in her hand. The boys are all but driven from her mind know; her blood feels near on fire with energy and neither she nor Kíli can ever resist the chance for competition. “I think you’ll find that it’s  _you_  who’ll be owing  _me_  a drink, Kíli.”  
  
Kíli draws her own knife, and turns it in her hand. Fíli is better with close combat than she, but where Fíli is strong, and definitely a force to be reckoned with if she got the upper hand, Kíli is quicker, lighter on her feet, and hard to catch. It may not be entirely fair, but she intends to play to her strengths, just as she’s been taught.  
  
Which is why, after feigning a strike at Fíli’s stomach to start things off, she doesn’t directly attack; simply uses her quick reflexes to dance out of the way of her sister’s blows. Dancing would even be the proper word for it; she all but twirls out of the way of a strike meant for her hip, with a laugh and a gleeful smirk.   
  
All the while, she never takes her eyes off Fíli, and if once, she deliberately catches her arm on the laces at the neck of her tunic to let it fall partially open, well, things come untied in sparring matches. The look on Fíli’s face only makes her grin more, though she knows she can’t avoid being caught in a real fight forever, and when Fíli finally  _does_  get in close, she’s likely going to pay for her taunting.  
  
Fíli knows that her sister might be quicker, and brute strength won’t work on her unless she’s close enough that Kíli’s range won’t work on her. Kíli makes a feint but then Fíli throws a well-aimed kick towards Kíli’s midsection; she expected Kíli to dodge it and she’s not disappointed, but she manages to get a quick cut on her sister’s arm and grins.  
  
“First blood, sister,” she says, then has to duck another blow. After that Kíli goes on defense and Fíli has no choice but to attack—she knows that she’s easily antagonized, and especially so when it comes to Kíli. Her sister can rile her up the worst of anyone. So when Kíli’s tunic gets yanked open in a strangely clumsy move, well…Fíli stares at her, her stomach twisting in a strange way at the sight, and then anger at Kíli’s inability to take anything seriously—flirting with the boys again, is she? Well, Fíli will certainly show her.  
  
She leans back, staying on the balls of her feet, then launches forward to get inside of Kíli’s range. At the shocked look on Kíli’s face Fíli can’t help but grin. Then she grabs hold of Kíli’s wrists, twisting her hand to make Kíli drop the knife and shoves her hard to the ground, Fíli’s knees holding her legs down as she straddles Kíli’s waist.  
  
Fíli is breathing hard, but the blood is pounding through her veins, making her wild with excitement and battle lust; she hopes that Kíli will put up a bit more of a fight because it’s far too much fun to stop  _now_.  
  
Kíli at least manages to fall on her back, rather than having her face shoved into the dirt. She looks up at her sister, panting from having had the breath knocked out of her. She arches up slightly, and when Fíli’s eyes start to wander, she grins in triumph; she gets a hand free, grabs Fíli’s hair, and, bracing her feet against the ground, she shoves up hard against Fíli and has her enough off balance that she manages to flip her over. Because having Fíli in such a position might have been fun, but pride demanded she have the upper hand.  
  
Looming over her sister, with her hand still in her hair, she smirks. “You weren’t expecting it to be that easy, were you?” Leaning over her like this, Kíli knows Fíli must have a perfect line of sight down her shirt. Unfortunately, so do the boys, if they’ve sharp enough eyes.  
  
“I was almost disappointed in you for a moment,” Fíli says, failing to keep her eyes from wandering downwards—no, she tells herself, stay  _focused_. Bracing herself for the pain, she throws her head forward, slamming her forehead into Kíli’s own and pulling her knees up to create some space between them. She uses the sheer force of her strength to grab Kíli’s arms again and shove her face first into the ground, twisting her sister’s arms around to pin them behind her back, Fíli lying flush along Kíli’s own body.  
  
“But you aren’t putting up too much of a challenge,” she says, leaning down close to whisper in Kíli’s ear.  
  
“Maybe a challenge isn’t what I’m looking for,” says Kíli, shuddering at the feeling of her sister pressed against her, and the breath on her ear. She does struggle against the hold, trying both to rile Fíli, and get loose.  
  
Fíli is heavier than her, yes, but what sort of dwarf would she be if she had no strength to her at all? She rolls them over until they’re both on their backs, Kíli atop her sister. With her legs no longer pinned, she kicks at Fíli’s knees to make her let go of her arms.   
  
Free, she leaps to her feet, and drags Fíli with her, hooking her arm around her sister’s throat, using her free hand to twist one of Fíli’s own arms behind her back.   
  
“Maybe I’m more interested in getting someone’s attention,” she says, against Fíli’s cheek.  
  
Fíli can’t help but shiver, but that hot anger hits her again. “Maybe you should be paying more _attention_  instead of trying to make eyes at a bunch of fools such as that,” she growls. She uses her free hand to grab at Kíli’s tunic, but the material doesn’t have any room to hold onto and she ends up with a fistful of fabric bunched up at the waistband near the side of Kíli’s trousers, against her hipbone.   
  
Fíli tries hard not to think of just  _where_  her hand is, forcing herself to concentrate on the fight and the fight alone. She has a lesson to teach her sister after all. Maneuvering herself around, Fíli manages to slide her left hip under Kíli’s right one, on the opposite side her waist from where Fíli’s other hand is; she does all of this in a single moment, not giving Kíli time to react as Fíli throws her  _hard_. Though it accomplishes the task of getting Kíli to let her go but at the same time drags Fíli down to the ground as well.  
  
Kíli starts to bark out a startled laugh, because Fíli thinks her flirtations have been for  _them_? But it gets cut off when Fíli throws her. Her head cracks against the ground, hard enough to leave her dizzy for a moment, but _not_  hard enough to get the pained groan she lets out. It has the desired effect: Fíli comes closer, either to gloat or to make sure she hadn’t truly hurt her sister. Kíli doesn’t care which.  
  
When she feels Fíli somewhere in the vicinity of her legs, she brings a knee up to catch her in the face. Not with enough force to break anything, but enough that if she gets her nose, it will be bloodied.  
  
She knows it’s a dirty trick, but what fun is a fair fight? “Your mind is addled if you think…” but she doesn’t finish it. Maybe it’s more fun like this.  
  
Fíli’s head is thrown back from the blow and she falls backwards, groaning with pain as she puts a hand to her face. She sits up and glares at her sister—fighting dirty like that, Kíli ought to know better—who just gives her a breathless grin. Fíli’s breath hitches in her throat at the sight.  
  
” _My_  mind is addled?” she says, moving to sit back on her heels and resting her hands on her thighs, which are spread out in a V-shape. Fíli stares at her sister incredulously. “All right. Practice is over. We’re heading back.” She stands up and offers a hand to help Kíli, but Kíli refuses it and gets to her feet on her own.  
  
Fíli shrugs and goes to collect her weapons, twirling the handle of her axe in her hand; after that she remembers that she’d forgotten her knife in the midst of their fight—which…rather defeated the point of the whole thing in the first place, now that she thinks about it—and goes to collect it, only to find Kíli has already picked it up. Fíli holds out a hand for it.  
  
Kíli knows she should leave it be; she had won, in a manner, after all. Best to leave it at and have the opportunity to gloat, even if Fíli will no doubt say she cheated and therefore it doesn’t count.   
  
But she can’t resist one more chance to tease.  
  
When she goes to give Fíli her knife, she drops it at the last second, grabs Fíli firmly by the wrist and yanks her forward. She hooks a foot behind Fíli’s, and jerks her feet out from under her. With Fíli on the ground, Kíli pins her, straddling her hips and pressing her wrists into the dirt. She leans down low over Fíli until their noses brush and they’re sharing the same breath. “You owe me that drink,” she says, with a smirk, as she pushes just a little bit closer, their lips  _almost_  touching…  
  
Then she springs to her feet and saunters away, without looking back at her sister.  
  
Fíli doesn’t move for a long moment, her heart pounding and heat rising in her cheeks, as well as… Telling herself not to think of it hasn’t helped any, it seems. She grabs her knife and her other weapons before stalking off after Kíli.  
—  
Her sister is in the training armory, and doesn’t seem to notice Fíli’s presence when she enters. As quietly as possible, Fíli sets her axe and her swords down, closing the door silently behind her. Kíli thinks she might have thrown Fíli off-guard, but Fíli is about to have the last laugh.  
  
She stays light on her feet as she comes up behind Kíli and shoves her face-first against the wall. Kíli’s groan makes Fíli smirk, her lips pressed close where Kíli’s jaw meets her neck. “Thought you had me there, did you? Think again.” She uses her forearm to hold Kíli’s shoulders down. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Kíli, but it’s not going to work.”  
  
“I thought it worked rather well,” Kíli says, trying to sound smug, which is hard when she’s being shoved into the wall. “You took too long to get back here. Did I make you uncomfortable?”   
  
She presses back against her sister, and their tighter training clothes are hardly a barrier at all, at least not compared to the layers they’re usually in. She feels Fíli start to move back, perhaps in shock, and turns, grabbing  her by the shoulders and driving her back against one of the beams that support the ceiling. Her unlaced tunic has fallen even further open from all the roughhousing, and she makes no attempt to fix it.   
  
Fíli is breathing far too hard for the short tussle, and a slow, smug smile spreads over Kíli’s lips as she says, “And I think you do know what I’m playing at.”  
  
It’s as though the breath has been punched out of Kíli’s lungs. Had Kíli…had Kíli found out? Did she  _know_? How Fíli’s gaze has lingered on her far longer than it should, how she thinks about what it might feel like to have her sister’s lips pressed against her own, or how she can feel want and need pulling at her when they spar or when they’re too close together, the heat growing between her legs until it’s too much to bear and she has to turn away?  
  
Fíli wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to punch Kíli in the jaw and throw her away; she does none of these, however, only hardens her gaze; her voice is tight as she says, “You think it’s amusing? You think me nothing more than a  _joke_?” She doesn’t want Kíli to hate her, though it’s very well within her rights to, to think Fíli disgusting and horrible for the very unsisterly thoughts that are a constant shadow in her mind. But this? Leading her this way and that the way she had been earlier? “I didn’t realize you could be this cruel,  _sister_.”  
  
Kíli doesn’t let Fíli’s glare deter her; she’s more than immune to most of even Fíli’s nastiest looks. Much as Fíli tried, she couldn’t quite inspire the same amount of shame in Kíli that a glare from Thorin or Dis could.   
  
“You call this cruelty? I call it suitable repayment.” Repayment for the years of wanting, and never having, because Fíli oft seemed indifferent to her increasingly unsubtle advances, even though she was  _sure_  her sister felt as she did. She had come to the conclusion, recently, that Fíli was deliberately  _trying_  not to notice, which had inspired her bold flirtations, on the field. And yet, Fíli had thought her flirting with their audience. She wondered who the dense one between them was. So yes, revenge was fun, but mostly she simply wanted Fíli to  _notice_.  
  
“Repayment?” Fíli echoes. “I assure you that I would not…if I had a choice. I’m sorry, and I can only imagine what you must think of me…” She casts her gaze to the ground, unable to look at Kíli anymore. Part of her feels that she does deserve this, that she deserves to be punished for ever looking at or thinking of her sister that way—her  _sister_ , the one person she’s closest to in the world, the one person who has put her trust in Fíli and thought it had never been betrayed.  
  
But Fíli  _has_  betrayed Kíli, with her treacherous feelings, with being too weak to hide them better. So in a way, it’s fitting, really.  
  
Now Kíli is somewhat confused… Fíli had gone from being frustrated, and annoyed with her, to looking guilty. Why should she look guilty? And what is this nonsense about what Kíli must think of her?   
  
Clearly something has gotten turned around in all of this, and Kíli thinks the time for words and even vague subtlety is over. She grabs Fíli’s chin, and tilts her head back up to kiss her, just a taste of what she’s willing to offer.  
  
Fíli is shocked, to say the very least, when Kíli leans in close and kisses her hard, and she can’t help but return it, leaning back and letting Kíli push up close against her, and this is what she’s  _wanted_  for so very, very long, and—  
  
But then her stomach sinks and reality comes back; she shoves Kíli away and slaps her across the face, unable to hold back her own tears.  
  
“How could you, Kíli?” she shouts. “After everything else, haven’t you tormented me enough for one day?” Her voice breaks at the end and she clenches her fists at her sides. Anger and shame are at war with each other inside of Fíli and she doesn’t know what to do about all of this. “You mock me and toy with me—if you are so disgusted with me that you feel the need to punish me for my feelings, then simply say so and I will…”  
  
She’d leave. If Kíli couldn’t stand to be around her anymore because of this, Fíli would leave Ered Luin. She doesn’t know where she’d go, but the one thing she doesn’t want is to hurt her sister. She couldn’t bear to hurt Kíli.  
  
Kíli stares at her sister in shock, a hand to her stinging cheek. She’s taken worse blows from her sister, but always in the practice ring, or in silly wrestling matches where there was the expectation of taking an elbow to the nose and suckerpunches were encouraged.  
  
But Fíli has never simply struck her before, and that is what hurts.   
  
Tears burn in her eyes and for a moment she can’t find her voice. Fíli’s accusations of torment are what bring her out of her shock, and she returns the slap. “ _I_  mock and toy with  _you_?” she yells, anger and hurt bringing her temper to a boil in a moment. “You’re the one who pretends not to notice my advances! You’re the one who doesn’t hide the way you look at me, yet when I offer what you want you—…” and the sting seems to return to her cheek then, and she can only glare at her sister.  
  
Fíli puts a hand to her face, whipping her head back up to look at Kíli. “You  _knew_. How long have you known, Kíli?” she shouts. “How long? And you thought it would be amusing to what, see how easily you could make me break?”  
  
Then Kíli’s last words sink in and her expression falls into one of horror. “Kíli, how could you think I— I would never,  _ever_  try to force…” But the words will not come out, no matter how hard she tries—the thought that Kíli would try to  _appease_  her somehow, that she would let Fíli do as she wanted, it was too horrible to imagine.  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she says, over and over, and she feels like such a fool for crying like this. Fíli’s head is pounding and she can’t breathe right; she has to take in shallow, heaving breaths, and she grabs her hair in her hands and pulls at it, hard, wanting to calm herself down but she doesn’t know  _how_. Everything has come crashing down all at once and there seems to be no way to stop it.  
  
It takes a moment, but what Fíli is apologizing for eventually snaps into place in Kíli’s mind, and it only serves to make her even more angry. “If you think you  _could_  force me—” If anyone had ever found themselves even wanting to  _try_  forcing her, they would have found rather quickly how deadly she could be with a knife when she wasn’t playing. Fíli included…   
  
And that Fíli thinks she would make such an offer if she didn’t want the same thing is, frankly, insulting. “What, did you think I felt I needed to gain favor with you through a quick fuck against the wall?” She laughs, bitter. “I had thought perhaps we might stop this ridiculous routine of ours, but if you think I would stoop so low…”  
  
“Then what could you possibly have gained out of trying to do this?” Fíli says. Kíli’s anger only serves to confuse her further. She grabs Kíli by the shoulders and shakes her hard once. Kíli should  _know_  that she’d never do something like that, and the fact that her sister would ever think… “How could you think something so little of me? Just because you’re disgusted with my feelings, what makes you believe that I would  _ever_ …”  
  
“You’re the one who seems to think I would be swayed into doing something I didn’t want,” Kíli spits back, shoving Fíli off. Then she pauses, one particular phrase catching her attention. “Disgusted with you? _That’s_  what you—… You’re an idiot, and if you ever try to insult my intelligence again, I’m going to remind you of this.”  
  
And with that, she grabs Fíli and pulls her back in close to kiss her again. “I’ve been trying to get your attention, you halfwit. How could I be disgusted with your feelings, when I share them?”  
  
“You’ve been…you…what?” Fíli says, not sure if she believes what she’s hearing. Then Kíli kisses her again and somehow it feels  _different_  this time, and Fíli can’t help kissing back. Kíli is a weakness but one that she’s long since accepted—though she never thought she’d have  _this_.  
  
All too soon, though, she has to pull away, make certain that this is truly what Kíli wants. “Are you sure?” she asks. “I just…I can’t possibly understand how…or  _why_ …” Though Kíli is not the most conventionally attractive dwarf that Fíli has ever seen, Fíli thinks she’s beautiful, and far besides. Why her sister would return her feelings—she’d always thought it such an impossibility that it had never even crossed her mind for Kíli to be trying to entice  _her_.  
  
“Because you’re probably the only one who’d have me,” Kíli jokes. She’s more serious when she says, “How could it be such a shock that I love you? How could you not  _know_?”  
  
She toys with Fíli’s hair, and she almost feels bad about the bruise forming around Fíli’s nose… But there’s still blood drying on her arm from that first cut, so in the end, it had been a suitable form of revenge.   
  
“As if I would try to show off for those halfwits who come to watch us practice,” she scoffs. “I thought unlacing my tunic in front of you might have gotten the message through, but I seem to overestimated your powers of observation, sister.”  
  
Fíli laughs a little, suddenly self-conscious of Kíli’s attentions. “I don’t know, but I truly had no idea. And I can’t understand why you might—return my feelings.” She reaches up to rub her thumbs across Kíli’s forehead and then, much more gently, across her reddening cheek where Fíli had slapped her. A pang of guilt runs through her at the sight.  
  
“I was afraid you were doing it on purpose to—” she stops, not wanting to say it. Looking away from Kíli, she isn’t sure how this can work, in spite of the fact that they apparently feel the same way for one another—or if it even  _will_. Kíli has always called her the pessimist of the family, and it is true, though she’d be more likely to say she’s a realist.  
  
“Tell me what you want, Kíli,” says Fíli, after a long moment’s hesitation. This may be throwing caution to the wind, but she’s been wanting and watching and aching for too damn long now and Mahal take her but she’ll take anything right now. Whatever Kíli wants from her, she’ll give.  
  
“You. I want you,” says Kíli, as open and honest as she’s been for the entirety of their… conversation. “Always, and only you.”  
  
Of course there are more vulgar answers to the question; she wants her sister on her knees, between Kíli’s own thighs. She wants to taste herself on Fíli’s tongue when she kisses her. She wants Fíli writhing beneath her, struggling to keep herself quiet. A flush spreads over her skin at the images coming to her now, but she keeps her thoughts to herself. There’s still an air of uncertainty between them, and she worries that Fíli may yet change her mind and flee, and knowing the depths of Kíli’s desires could well be what sets her to running.  
  
Even Kíli isn’t sure how this could, or would work. Her optimism is not blind, and she knows the dangers, she’s thought of them, thought of every possibility, even the less pleasant ones. She simply felt that even the less pleasant outcomes were worth it, if it meant she could have Fíli, in any capacity.  
  
Fíli nods, letting out a slow breath. “I want you, as well,” she says, voice barely a whisper, because this all feels like a dream and if she isn’t careful it might break. Neither of them move for several moments, only keeping their gazes locked on one another. Finally she reaches out to run her fingers gently through Kíli’s hair, afraid that her trembling hands might give her away. She could have this, with Kíli, when she never could have believed it before.  
  
“Kíli…” she says, trailing off, because she isn’t sure what else there is to say.  
  
“Yes, Fíli?” Kíli leans in close, resting her forehead against Fíli’s. She can feel Fíli trembling, and wonders if she is too. She closes the last distance between them and kisses Fíli, hesitantly, For all her bravado earlier, there’s been far too many misunderstandings between them today, and she isn’t as sure of herself as she had been.   
  
She realizes they’re both ridiculous, and eventually, they’re probably going to laugh at the sheer lack of communication they had displayed.  
  
“If we both want this, why shouldn’t we have it?” she asks, against Fíli’s lips. “Let us have this, Fíli, please.”  
  
Fíli is about to speak when she hears the doorknob turning behind them. She and Kíli jump apart as though burned, and they look over to see Dwalin enter the room. He looks back and forth between them, and Fíli is grateful that the only source of light in the room is from the several torches that hang on the walls.  
  
“What’re you lasses doin’ in here?” he asks.  
  
“We’ve been at practice all afternoon,” Fíli explains. “So we were putting away our weapons before we leave.” They weren’t scheduled for training today, but hopefully Dwalin will think that they decided to be more serious about it than they might usually be. He nods and doesn’t say anything, instead walking over to one of the racks on the other side of the room.  
  
Fíli glances over at Kíli and jerks her head toward the door, and the two of them leave the armory as quietly as they can. It’s ridiculous that Fíli feels like they’re children being caught doing something they ought not be, though if she’s honest it is a bit like that. She tries very hard to put  _that_  out of her mind.

—  
Kíli heaves out a sigh once they’re safely away from Dwalin. If they had been any more distracted… Though she finds that coming so close to having been seen doesn’t quite unnerve her as it should. In fact, she’d dare say it almost  _excites_  her. She’s always been reckless, and had a fondness for danger. Part of the fun in doing things she wasn’t supposed to had always been the possibility of being caught, and the thrill when she wasn’t.  
  
That probably contributes to her pulling Fíli into the first room she sees, and bolting the door behind them; it’s one of the more rarely used storerooms, and thus abandoned, but the hallway they’d just come from nearly always has people passing by.  
  
Which doesn’t stop Kíli looking at her sister like she wants to devour her.  
  
Fíli finds herself pushed back against the door; she can barely see in the room with barely any light shining, but the look on Kíli’s face makes her shudder. She grabs Kíli’s wrist and pulls her close, kissing her hard enough that Kíli’s teeth smack against her own, Fíli’s lower lip caught between them, and she tastes the metallic tang of her own blood. Somehow it only makes her need  _more_ , and Fíli’s hands move through Kíli’s hair, holding her head in place so that Fíli can kiss her more deeply.  
  
Kíli nearly pulls back at the taste of blood, but Fíli holds her in place. It can’t have been serious, then, and there’s no reason to put a halt to things over it.   
  
She slides a leg between Fíli’s, their bodies flush against each other, and Kíli wonders if now might be the time to tell Fíli everything she wants, or if they should leave it at this, not press too far, when they’ve only just started this… whatever this is, or will be.  
  
Then Fíli tugs at her hair and even the vague notions of taking this slowly are chased from her mind. She wants, needs, and Fíli seems more than willing to give.  
  
“Say you’re mine,” she mutters into Fíli’s mouth.  
  
Kíli shivers at Fíli’s fingers teasing over her skin, and the way she moves against her. She drags Fíli’s hand up to the V of her open tunic, a silent command for her to  _touch_. Her own hands go to Fíli’s thighs, and she scrapes her nails up them, almost wishing there wasn’t cloth in the way, but at the same time enjoying the feeling of the rough material under her fingers, and no doubt it must drag against Fíli’s skin.  
  
“I’ve dreamed of this,” she murmurs against Fíli’s ear. “How it would feel. How you’d taste.”  
  
Fíli slips one finger inside of Kíli’s tunic, a second following shortly after; her hand gets caught on the edge of the cloth, though, and she tugs it down Kíli’s shoulder in frustration. When Fíli runs her thumb underneath Kíli’s breast she smiles at the gasp it elicits from her sister.  
  
“I’ve thought about it too,” she breathes. “About all the things I’d do to you. That you’d do to me…” Fíli sucks in a sharp breath at the pleasure-pain of Kíli’s nails as they drag the rough material of Fíli’s trousers along her thighs. She lifts her own knee till it’s trapped firmly between Kíli’s thighs, and she can  _feel_  Kíli against her, the tightness of Kíli’s pants doing little to conceal anything from Fíli’s touch.  
  
With only a slight hesitation, Fíli presses tiny kisses along the underside of Kíli’s chin, down to lave her tongue against the hollow of Kíli’s throat; she keeps going further and futher downward, even more slowly than before, taking her time so that Kíli might stop her just in case.  
  
The pressure of Fíli’s knee against her makes Kíli groan, and she rocks forward, craving more. She gasps at the feeling of Fíli’s tongue on her skin, and murmurs what amounts to encouragement.   
  
“What is it you’d like to do to me?” she asks, when she finds the words.   
  
She pulls Fíli’s tunic from her belt and finally gets her hands on skin. She continues the rake of her nails up Fíli’s ribs, to her breasts. She’s no gentler there, when she drags her fingers over them, and she knows her hands are rough, calloused from her work and her training. But neither of them have ever been soft, or gentle, and certainly not with each other. Why should this be any different?  
  
Fíli leans her head forward, licking her way up along the space between Kíli’s breasts, exhaling softly against the same spot, grinning a little when she feels Kíli shiver against her. Pulling away, she spins them so that Kíli is the one who’s backed up against the door, and Fíli presses herself flush against her sister’s body. Then she lifts her head up and kisses the side of Kíli’s lips, murmuring against her skin. “Do you trust me, Kíli?”  
  
She slides a hand down along Kíli’s side, one by one slipping her fingers under the waistband of Kíli’s trousers; then Fíli pulls back, ignoring a groan of protest from Kíli, which is sharply cut off when Fíli’s hand moves down, further and further, to press against Kíli between her legs, feeling the wetness already there. She bites a little at Kíli’s lower lip at the same time she presses her fingers  _up_ , dragging slowly against her tender flesh, loving the sounds it causes Kíli to make.  
  
“Of course I tru-ust—” Kíli stumbles over her words and then is simply cut off entirely by a moan. She grabs at Fíli’s shoulders as she thrusts against her hand.   
  
She digs her nails into Fíli’s shoulders and hisses through her teeth when Fíli keeps up with her torturously slow movements. “Damn it, Fí- ah,  _Fuck_! would you stop teasing.”  
  
Fíli chuckles, bumping her chin against Kíli’s jaw. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” She tugs hard at Kíli’s wrists and pushes her to the ground, her hand going under Kíli’s head so she doesn’t hurt herself. Stretching herself out on top of her sister, Fíli hitches Kíli’s right leg over her own hip, Fíli’s right knee bent along the side of their bodies; Fíli rocks her hips forward, and the movement presses her cunt against Kíli’s own, the friction between them sending a dizzying wave of lust through Fíli’s entire body.  
  
She groans, dropping her head and she can’t help but to take Kíli’s breast into her mouth, biting gently at her nipple as she rolls her hips again. It’s delicious, all the heat between them and  _finally_  Fíli has her sister there, right where she’s always wanted her. And she can’t get enough.  
  
Kíli thinks she might already be seeing stars. She meets the roll of Fíli’s hips with her own, and it takes a moment, but they settle into a rhythm and Kíli’s head spins. Her breath catches in her throat at Fíli’s mouth on her, and her hands scrabble over the floor, desperate to find something to hold onto to ground herself.   
  
Eventually she’s clawing at Fíli’s back, demanding more, needing  _something_ , because she thinks she might go mad from the pressure and the heat, and the lust.   
  
She buries her fingers in Fíli’s hair and drags her back up into a searing kiss, and her lungs burn with the need to breathe, but she has no intention of letting Fíli go until she’s tasted every part of her.  
  
Fíli holds Kíli’s thigh with her hand, bringing them closer together as she rolls her hips, her cunt pressed hard against Kíli’s as they move; she has her other hand pressed against the floor to help increase their rhythm, going faster and harder and she can barely see straight, and then her eyes close when Kíli takes her mouth over, lips against lips and her tongue licking over Fíli’s teeth.  
  
“Come on,” she pants, “oh, Kíli, you look— _nngh_ , I wish you could see how gorgeous you look right now—” And she  _does_ , all flushed and with a sheen of sweat on her skin, breathing hard and fast, arching her back as she bucks her hips up, one pale breast exposed from the tunic that’s only half-off of her.  
  
Then Fíli moves her left hand to where it’s in between them, adjusting their trousers to help increase the friction before she slides her hand to grab Kíli’s ass and pull her in close, pull her against Fíli,  _hard_ , rubbing them both to where it’s almost more pain than pleasure, but only just not.  
  
Kíli’s breath comes as more choked off sobs. Her legs tremble from being  _so close_ , yet not quite being tipped over the edge, and she can hardly think beyond the ache of it. The pain that borders on being too much only heightens everything, and she never wants it to stop.  
  
Fíli says she’s gorgeous, but Fíli… Fíli is a goddess in that moment, with her kiss-bruised lips parted on a moan, her eyes so intently focused on Kíli, and her hair coming loose from its braid to spill over her shoulders. Kíli thinks she’ll forsake any other deity, for she’s found the only being she intends to worship.  
  
Fíli’s hair brushes over her exposed breast as they move, and that feather-light touch on fevered, over-sensitive skin has her keening out Fíli’s name as she practically crushes Fíli against her with the leg hooked over her hip, finally,  _finally_  getting the release she’d been after. She arches up against Fíli, the cry of her name turning into a whimper, because the pain and the pleasure are still being mixed, and it’s  _too much_ , but she wants more, wants the pain as much as the pleasure. She’s almost sorry when she starts to come down.   
  
But all of her is still trembling, and Fíli is still moving, and every miniscule touch is like a bolt of lightning running through her, keeping her breath hitching, and she’s not sure whether she wants Fíli to follow her over the edge  _now_  to spare her from it, or if she wants it to go on, and on, until she’s so wrung out she won’t be able to move for days.  
  
Fíli drinks in the sight of Kíli as she comes—the flush on her skin, the choked off cry as she says  Fíli’s name, the way she clenches her thighs around Fíli and traps her close, but not nearly close enough. Fíli keeps moving, the building pleasure and heat and tightness deep down inside her getting stronger and rising with every breath that catches in Kíli’s throat. Fíli bites at her sister’s neck, leaving her mark where it’ll only barely be hidden by her clothes, so Kíli will  _know_  and remember every single moment of this.  
  
And then it hits her, her body seizing up and her release comes to her with a hard shudder; she groans and Kíli’s name barely manages to make it out of her throat at the end. She collapses with her head in the crook of Kíli’s neck, her hand coming up to absently stroke through Kíli’s hair as she waits for it all to subside.  
  
If she had her choice, she’d never move from this spot again.  
  
Kíli pants into her sister’s hair as she tries to regain her wits. “ _Fuck_ ,” she says, voice shaky even to her own ears. She feels Fíli huff out what might be a vague laugh, and for a while after that the only sound in the room is of their breathing as it slowly returns to normal.   
  
She traces nonsense patterns onto her sister’s back while they lie there, and Kíli finds she really has no desire to move, despite the hard floor starting to hurt her shoulder blades.   
  
“Remind me to pull you into storerooms more often in the future,” Kíli says, when her mind is clear, and she’s no longer trembling.  
  
Then, the door rattles, and Kíli is infinitely glad she had the foresight to lock it, because she has been caught in compromising situations before, and she doubts she could talk her way out of this the way she could stealing extra food when she was younger (she still steals extra food; now she just has the sense not to get caught). She assumes whoever it is will not want to bother with having to go fetch the keys and will move on, thus leaving her to bask with Fíli…  
  
“Why is this locked?” comes Dwalin’s voice, as he bangs on the door.   
  
“Bangin’ on it isn’t going to help,” says another voice. Is that  Bofur? “We’ll just go get the keys—”  
  
“The lock on this side’s broke. Which means someone’s inside.”  
  
Fíli’s eyes go wide as she stares in horror at first Kíli, then at the door. She scrambles to her feet, as does her sister, and they hurriedly straighten their clothes—Fíli smoothes down Kíli’s hair and pulls her tunic back up over her shoulder, and Kíli adjusts Fíli’s trousers and brushes back stray strands of hair.  
  
“Should we open it first?” Fíli hisses at Kíli. They have to think fast to come up with some explanation for what the two of them are doing in a *locked storage closet*….  
  
“I don’t know!” Kíli whispers back. How were they going to explain what they’d been doing in here?  
  
There’s another loud bang on the door, and Kíli’s nerves can’t take this.   
  
“Just… Follow my lead,” she says to Fíli, though she has no idea what lead she means, because she has no idea what she’s going to say. She only knows that they don’t have time to debate over the best course of action.  
  
She opens the door before Dwalin can pound on it again— and she tries not to grimace as she walks, because she’s still feeling the aftermath of the sustained friction.  
  
“Mister Dwalin,” she says, brightly, with as innocent of a grin as she can manage.  
  
“I mighta known it would be you two,” Dwalin says, crossing his arms, and giving them a disapproving look. “And what, pray tell, were you doing in there?” And he looks behind Kíli, as though he’s looking for any damage to anything on the shelves behind them.  
  
Kíli opens her mouth… and finds that she can’t come up with a suitable excuse, so she ends up with her mouth opening and closing while no sound comes out.  
  
Bofur looks them both up and down, and there’s something to his look that doesn’t sit well with Kíli, but he only smiles and says to Dwalin, “Probably hiding from their mam and their chores.”  
  
“Yes!” Fíli says, latching onto the excuse. “That’s exactly what it was. We were practicing earlier, and then when we remembered about all of our chores, we…skived off…a bit.” She has the presence of mind to look sheepish, shrugging a little.  
  
Dwalin, however, looks doubtful. “And why in the blazes was the door locked—“He stops, rubbing his forehead and sighing. “Never mind. You know what, I dinnae want to know. Get on out of here, the both of you.”  
  
Fíli and Kíli can’t bolt past them quickly enough, and Fíli thinks she hears Dwalin mutter something about “lasses who are more trouble than they’re worth” before she and Kíli round the next corner.  
  
“That…was a bit too close,” Fíli says when they’re a good distance away. She starts laughing, mostly out of nerves, and slings an arm around Kíli’s shoulder.  
  
“That’s what makes it fun,” Kíli laughs, but her heart is pounding and even she thinks it had been just a little too close.   
  
She loops an arm around Fíli’s waist, and shoves lightly at her as they walk.   
  
“Not regretting anything, are you?”  
  
Fíli looks at her sister, a small smile playing on her lips. “No,” she says, kissing Kíli’s temple. “Can’t really say that I am.”


End file.
